


Leak

by littlechinesedoll



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Animated), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Boypussy, Breastmilk, Implied Mpreg, Intersex Bruce Wayne, Intersex Omegas, Lactation Kink, M/M, PWP, Pregnancy Kink, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6613267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Omegas sometimes fall victim to symptoms similar to pregnancy when in the presence of their alpha. Or the one where Bruce lactates out of nowhere and Clark has to drain all the milk because it's his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leak

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Shingeki no Kyoujin DJ, Omegamilk by twoframe (http://myreadingmanga.info/shingeki-no-kyojin-dj-omegaverse-milk-eng/)
> 
> unbeta'd. please tell me if there are any mistakes. :)

Bruce didn’t actually want to come into the League meeting that today. But this meeting was for the senior members, and he was one, part-timer or not. Besides, he was somewhat sure that it wasn’t going to take long, since it would be Diana and not him speaking. Which he was also thankful for, because he was in no mood to talk about anything.

His body felt heavy as he made his way through the corridors, but he tried his best not to drag his feet as he walked. He passed by the rookies, some of them too enthusiastic that they found humor in saluting as he walked by.

When he entered the conference room that was for senior member use only, only Wally was missing. He didn’t have the energy to comment on it and took a seat.

“Should I start?” asked Diana as she stood up from her seat to take her place at the table’s capital.

“Yes, you should start!” Wally appeared with a gust of wind, and set down a bag of food and bottles of flavored tea on the table. “I got you guys burritos,” he said as he rummaged through the bag to find his chimichanga. He passed around the bag, and Diana started to speak about the subject they called the meeting for.

Bruce wanted to throw up at the smell of the combination of ingredients the wraps had, not that he had anything in his stomach to actually throw up. He pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed that he was starting to fall ill. This wasn’t good. He’d been feeling weak since yesterday.

“Bruce,” Clark said worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing the bag away from him to decline the food when John passed it to him to pick a wrap from the three or four more left in the bag.

“Aaww, but I got you the veggie kind!” Wally frowned when the bag was returned to him. “I really wanted you to try the veggie one,”

“Some other time,” Bruce replied.

Diana set down the bottle of tea she took a sip of. “Alright, back to the subject at hand,”

Bruce couldn’t find the energy to listen to her.

“You sure you’re okay?” Clark whispered about five minutes into Diana’s discussion.

“Yes,” Bruce hissed, getting annoyed at the constant prying, even though he knew Clark was only concerned.

Clark frowned. “Okay,”

It was three in the afternoon, and it was too early for him to be in uniform. He had trouble putting it on earlier that day when he decided to be on time and not be a little early like always, for League meetings. It took him longer than usual to get dressed, and physical contact with his chest was somewhat painful. He was fairly lucky, if that was the right term, that Clark had left the manor before he woke up, then he’d really know that he wasn’t feeling too well.

But yesterday, he didn’t feel this kind of shitty. Sure he felt under the weather, but nothing felt too serious that a hot soak in the tub wouldn’t fix. He and Clark even spent some well-deserved intimate time with each other last night, and he didn’t feel too off.

Chest pains. Why was he having chest pains?

He tried to concentrate on what Diana was telling them. Usually during political discussions Diana led, he’d participate in the meeting and ask questions to clarify something. But the growing discomfort he was feeling wouldn’t let him lend his ear to Diana’s efforts of explaining her thoughts on man’s bureaucracy, and how she could extend any kind of help she can give.

About an hour later, Bruce was pleased and relieved that the meeting had ended. It was unusual for him to not engage in the discussion, but really he just wanted to find a way to alleviate the chest pains.

As the meeting adjourned, his teammates prepared to leave. Clark was near him, talking with Diana, but he couldn’t comprehend what they were saying even though he heard them clearly.

“C-clark,” he reached for Clark’s arm, and grabbed a fistful of the stretchable fabric. But before he could take one step closer, he knees buckled and he almost fell to the floor.

Diana and Shayera gasped.

“Bruce!” Clark caught him immediately. And as soon as he touched Bruce’s forearm to keep him from falling, he did an x-ray to see what was wrong, because Bruce was running a fever. Bruce leaned into him for support.

Was Bruce’s uniform….wet?

“Is he okay?” John asked as he readied to create a construct to help Bruce up.

“I’ll take him to the medbay,” Clark took off his cape and wrapped it around Bruce’s shoulders to cover him.

Bruce groaned in pain when Clark tried to lift him off the floor, hooking Bruce’s legs over his arm to carry him in a way Bruce found humiliating, but it was the easiest way to without hurting him any more than he already was.

Clark flew out of the conference room. “I know you don’t like it when I do this—”

“Not the medbay,” Bruce said hoarsely. “Home,”

* * *

 

On his bed in the master bedroom, Bruce trembled, winced, and groaned as Clark helped him slowly peel off his uniform. His and Clark’s capes and boots, his cowl, glove, pants, and belt were littered on the floor, and his top soon joined them, all strewn in different directions from the door leading to the bed. He exhaled in relief when the removal of the clothes brought some ease to his aching chest. He leaned on the pillows propped up on the headboard behind him.

“Bruce...” Clark breathed. “Your…is that…?”

Bruce’s chest and torso were covered in a thin layer of liquid, glistening as the sunlight touched his skin. His nipples were darker and larger, and his breasts seemed bigger. Clark reached for one and gently gave it a press.

White liquid streamed from the dark nipple.

“OW!” Bruce jolted back and hit Clark’s hand away. “That hurts!” he looked at his chest, and caught the white liquid running down his stomach and caught it with a finger. “Milk…” he looked up at Clark, who looked just as horrified as he was. “I’m on birth control—I can’t be pregnant!”

“W-well,” Clark stammered, trying not to let the panic set, but he wasn’t very good at managing the panic at the moment. “Omegas sometimes uh…fall victim to symptoms similar to pregnancy when uh…when in the presence of their alpha--!”

“Check me over!” Bruce demanded. “Check me over—make sure nothing’s in there!”

“There isn’t!” Clark said immediately. “There isn’t, I swear. I looked before we left the conference room!”

Clark’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t know why that hurt him. Did Bruce not want a child with him? It was dangerous of course, not to mention a big, heaping pile of trouble for the both of them; it would also mean that Bruce would have to give up duty for quite some time. They’d both have to juggle duty, work, and the child, children in Bruce’s case. The inconvenience of it all would be difficult to manage.

Bruce noticed the change in Clark’s demeanor. “I didn’t mean it that way, Clark,” he said softly.

“I know, I understand,” Clark sat on his folded legs on the floor of Bruce’s room.

“Come here,” Bruce motioned for Clark to get off the floor and onto the bed with him.

The bed dipped from the weight when Clark sat down, causing Bruce to wince and grunt from the movement.

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine!” Bruce said hurriedly to keep Clark from going into a litany of apologies. He was still shaking. “We…” he exhaled. “We need to get all of the milk out. It’s the only way,” he took Clark’s hands and brought them to his chest. He hissed when Clark’s hands touched him. “Do it, and don’t stop until I’m drained of it,”

“You’re sure?” Clark asked just to be certain as he placed himself between Bruce’s legs. Maybe he could rush out for a pump, and Bruce wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about Clark fondling him like this.

“Yes, do it!” Bruce grit his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” Clark gave a soft squeeze.

It didn’t take too much pressure for the milk to come flowing out of Bruce’s nipples. Bruce grunted and whined in pain. “Ah!” he gripped onto Clark’s forearms. “Stop—STOP!” he begged when the pain became too much to bear.

Clark lifted his hands off Bruce. There was so much milk; Bruce was drenched, and so were Clark’s hands and the bed.

“I’m sorry!” Clark said again. His brows met and worry washed over him as Bruce shook, panting as he gave up trying to sit upright, and collapsed onto the bed. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, not because he was hurting Bruce, but because he was finding the situation erotic. “I’m sorry, Bruce,” he put his hands on Bruce’s chest again.

“Wait—” Bruce panted, putting his hands on Clark’s shoulders to keep him from coming any closer. “Wait, Clark—hnnh!”

Clark moved closer to him, took a nipple into his mouth, and squeezed the other breast gently to keep the milk flowing. He circled the hardened nub with his tongue, took a long, soft suck, and swallowed the milk that filled his mouth.

“No…” Bruce fisted Clark’s uniform. “Clark, stop—!” he breathed, “That hurts—AH!”

Clark pulled away from Bruce’s breast, and he involuntarily ground his hips against Bruce’s. Both of them looked at their groins.

Clark was hard. And Bruce was completely soaked through.

“I’m wet,” Bruce panted, looking at his underwear in disbelief. “How can I be wet?” he could understand the arousal Clark felt from this, but he didn’t feel sexually stirred at all.

Bruce wanted to hide in shame. His body begged for a child to carry and birth, and Clark too wanted that child, but he didn’t want one. He couldn’t explain he humiliation he felt. Maybe it was the omega in him, knowing the biggest shame was being unable to give its alpha a child.

“Sh-should I keep going?” Clark asked cautiously. “There’s still a lot of milk in there,” he wasn’t going to lie, there _still was_ a lot more left, and he wanted to drink it all. Bruce looked so hot like this, what more if he really were pregnant?

If Bruce got pregnant, Clark would do _anything_ and _everything_ for Bruce. Bruce knew that. He didn’t have any contingencies for an unplanned pregnancy but he has thought of it, and what kind of difficulties they’d have to face for the both his and the child’s safety.

Bruce nodded.

Clark placed his hands back on Bruce’s tender chest, and took into his mouth the previously neglected nipple, and sucked. Bruce closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around Clark, cradling his mate’s head as he groaned. Clark’s hand massaged the other breast, encouraging the milk to spill as he ground his hips against Bruce’s.

Several slow grinds and mouthfuls of milk later, Bruce’s back arched up and he trembled through an orgasm so intense, he pulled on Clark’s hair. His chest rose and fell quickly, trying to catch his breath.

“Clark…” Bruce let go of Clark’s hair. “Fuck…” he panted. “Fuck me, come on, put it in me—I need it, hurry!”

Clark eyes widened and he scrambled to pull Bruce’s underwear off him, and to take off the rest of his clothing. He threw the soiled underwear and his clothes to the floor. Bruce was sopping wet. Bruce’s own cock was covered in semen, while his thighs were glistening with his lubricant.

Bruce gave a sharp hiss when he felt Clark’s fingers press into his folds. “No, no fingers—hhnnh!” Clark’s digits easily slid inside. Clark started to move them, the obscene wet sounds making Bruce shudder. “No more—I need—! Clark, I need—”

He felt empty as Clark withdrew his fingers, but was filled with a frenzied urge to be filled when he felt Clark press his tip into him. Clark stilled, fully sheathed in Bruce, and then bent over to suck on Bruce’s neck as he again massaged Bruce’s chest.  

“Move!” Bruce demanded. And Clark did.

Bruce’s chest was still aching, and the steady but gentle pressure Clark put on them was painful, but milk was still generously flowing. It such a pity to waste so much milk. Bruce could have fed their child several times over with that.

He clung tightly to Clark, feeling full but also not feeling full enough. He was still somewhat engorged, and Clark’s thick girth stretched him so deliciously good as he pounded into him.

Nails dug into Clark’s back. “Clark…Clark, harder, harder! I’m gonna come!” Bruce hooked his legs together to keep Clark close to him.

Clark did his best with the small space given to him. He wasn’t going to last long either. Bruce never really begged like this outside of his heats, so this really was his Bruce begging to be fucked. It was a fantasy Clark never knew he had, and never knew he’d get.

Bruce’s hands found Clark’s hair again, and pulled on it as he abruptly went rigid, and his mouth fell open to a silent scream, his climax hitting him without warning. Clark rode him out of his completion, and he too released several thrusts later. Just the feeling of Bruce clinging so tightly onto him was enough to send him over the edge.

Moments later, Bruce went limp, and fell asleep.

* * *

 

Bruce woke up feeling strangely refreshed. He was in one of his pajamas. All the buttons of his top were undone, and there was a warm towel on his chest. The bed didn’t feel wet or sticky.

“How are you feeling?”

He looked up and saw Clark enter the room with some food and a glass of water. “Like jelly,”

Clark set the food down on a table that wasn’t supposed to be near the bed. “You have a fever. You’ll have to skip patrol tonight, and rest,” he said, taking a small towel from the bowl on the nightstand. “Dick will cover for you,” he wrung it of water, and placed it on Bruce’s forehead.

Bruce twitched when the cool towel touched his skin.

“Sorry,” said Clark fondly. He took the warm towel off Bruce’s chest, and replaced it with a dry one. “The milk has been drained, but if you press hard enough there will still be some drops,” he buttoned up Bruce’s top.

“Thank you, Clark,” Bruce whispered gratefully.

Clark replied with a kiss on Bruce’s temple.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated!


End file.
